You are like an eye that sees
That shovel deep down
on my earth,
That sees different mirrors at a glance
And understand their differences.
There are times when I wish
They could wear your stunning eyes,
So they could appreciate
rainbows after storms,
And the stars that hung
in the darkest space.
YOU ARE READING
| march and phantom.
PoetryHe is the corpse of my existential avenue, creeping towards a clandestine affair.
